Wolf's Call
by p r o w l i n g w o l f
Summary: The first few paragraphs of my story about a girl that has lost her people. Plays during Ayla's time, but she'll probably come into it later.


The girl woke up on the hard ground, a rock poking in her side. She was cold and uncomfortable and wondered why. Slowly, she sat up, trying to clear her head. As she looked at the destruction around her, the pictures of what had happened suddenly came rushing back at her. Silently, she started crying, her tears falling on the dry ground below her.  
  
Eventually, she became aware of the cold once more, and realized that she was hungry too. She got up carefully, and winced when she tried to put weight on her ankle. She remembered that she had hurt it when she had tried to run away and fell the day before. She called out, for someone, anyone, to come and help her. The only reply she received was a birdcall from somewhere to her right. That was when the girl realized she was alone in this hostile world. Safe and happy until the day before, she couldn't quite grasp the implications yet. Limping, she made her way towards the camp - or what was left of it. She caught a movement from the corner of her eye, and momentarily thought that perhaps someone had heard her call and was now coming to help her - it was a desperate hope, and she knew it. Sadly, she watched the fox melt back into the shadows of the forest. She kept on going, until she reached the first of the dwellings that made up her clan's summer camp. Leaning against the wall, she looked up and gasped in horror at the sight that lay before her. Several of the dwellings had been ripped apart, and wood splinters littered the scene along with torn up reed mats and leather. But that wasn't the worst part - they could be repaired or rebuilt. Just that there wasn't anyone left who could do it, and people could not be brought back to life. Slowly, she slid down the side of the dwelling, still not wanting to believe what she saw. Strewn among the wood and leather were the bodies of the ones she loved. The girl cried out in her anguish, scaring off a few birds that had been hopping around the remains of the camp, looking for food.  
  
She did not understand why and how it had happened. They were a small camp, numbering only nine people. Their camp belonged to the Tanzanii, a people that lived close to the Beran sea (somewhat north-west of the Zelandonii). The Tanzanii revered wolves; to them, wolves were the incarnation of Lumi, the great mother's bright lover. Like all people of the time, they lived off the land and what it gave them. Their lives were not easy, but they were happy and thankful for what the earth gave them. The girl did not understand what could have been gained by this, and how those people could have been so cruel. She was young and innocent yet, and did not understand the harsh rules of survival in this world.  
  
The girl had been eating her dinner, roast bison, cooked by her mother. Earlier, she had been learning how to carve from her father, one of the most respected carvers of the Tanzanii. Her younger brother had continuously disturbed her by asking her to play with him. She did not mind it at times, but she felt that she was becoming too old for his games. With eleven years, she was getting close to attaining womanhood, and she was sure that she would have her first rites either this summer meeting or the next. After having finished her dinner, she went over to the next hearth, wanting to talk to her friend who was only a year older than her. Her friend had already had her first moon time, and was going to have her first rites in a few months. The girl hoped that she would be able to have hers at the same time, but she would not mind waiting for another year - it was, after all, an important transition and she knew she would go through it sooner or later.  
  
"Neelie!" her friend had greeted her, "I haven't seen you all day!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Sheenie; I was practicing my carving."  
  
"Oh, it's alright. I only wanted to show you the skirt that I made for myself for this summer meeting."  
  
Sheenie had picked up a skirt made of leather that had been dyed with a reddish tinge, decorated with countless beads and some porcupine quills and showed it to her friend. Neelie admired the handiwork, especially because she herself was not very good at sewing. The two girls had talked about the sewing techniques, some things that they wanted to try out, and, of course, the upcoming summer meeting. Eventually, Neelie had heard her mother calling for her, anxiousness in her voice. She said goodbye to Sheenie, and ran to her mother, thinking that her mother needed help. When she had reached her mother, she saw her father and most of the other men of the camp talking to a group of strangers in the meeting place. They did not look happy. Frightened, Neelie had looked up to her mother, asking who these people were. But her mother had not answered. In horror, she watched as one of the strangers got out a spear and stabbed her mate. Neelie's cry of terror was drowned by shouting from the strangers. They had started wrecking the dwellings, massacring people as they went along. When Neelie heard Sheenie scream, she had started running, trying to get away from the chaos the camp had been turned into. But she had tripped and fallen, and could not get up again. When she heard footsteps approach, Neelie had started screaming again, until a hard blow in her face stopped her. The man had hit her again and again, until someone started shouting; then he left. Crying and hurting, Neelie had fainted.  
  
The girl thought about all this as she looked at her once-peaceful home. She got up again, skirting around bodies, making her way towards her family's dwelling. In front of the entrance lay her mother's body, horribly mutilated. A few steps further on she saw the barely recognizable shape of a child's body - her brother. It was too much. Spasms shook Neelie's body as she heaved, her vomit mingling with the blood of her mother. Finally, she was able to straighten up again, and, trying not to look at the bodies again, she entered the dwelling. The destruction inside was not as bad as she thought it would be. It seemed that the assault had reached there last. 


End file.
